


Within the Belly of the Beast

by Gdamnbluepool



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-24 04:51:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16633292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gdamnbluepool/pseuds/Gdamnbluepool
Summary: A brief look in on some Imperial forces.





	Within the Belly of the Beast

Admiral Theola Duvessa lightly taps her finger tips on the arm rests of her chair. Her honey brown eyes slide across the gathered captains of the main vessels of her battlegroup, as well as the leaders of the five Flights and the generals of the battalions under her command. She turns her head and stares out into the void of space. She could just barely see the outlines of the other ships floating nearby, postured in a defensive formation. As someone clears their throat, her eyes are brought back into the meeting at hand. “No one has anything to say?” she asks, her tone stern as she uncrosses her legs and leans forward slightly. A few of the officers shift slightly under her gaze, but no one speaks up. 

The Fleet Admiral rises up from her seat with fluid, predatory grace. She tugs her black tunic straight and begins circling the table. There were several colors of uniform around the table. The standard olive-drab of the Imperial Navy, the shocking crimson of Imperial Intelligence, the subdued cream of Imperial Security, and the ominous black of those who had served on the front lines, just like herself. “Can no one explain how that man was able to bypass our security systems, retrieve prisoners from our brig, and make it safely into hyperspace without being stopped?” she asks loud enough for one of the officers to visibly flinch. 

Her eyes lock onto the officer in question. Dressed in the olive drab of the Imperial Navy, Captain Ashton Bridges lightly wrings his gloved hands and avoids meeting her gaze directly. She stalks back to the head of the table and taps a keypad. An instant later, a hologram of a black armored Stormtrooper escorting a prisoner flashes into existence above the center of the table and slowly begins to rotate. “Captain Bridges, this was taken from surveillance on your ship. Would you care to explain?” Admiral Duvessa asks firmly, steel edging her tone. At the sound of his name, the naval officer sits a bit straighter and turns to meet her, his green eyes fighting to stay on hers while under the scrutiny of her withering gaze. 

“His credentials all checked out, initially. A lone Death Trooper sent to fetch a political prisoner didn’t raise any flags to anyone along his route. They are often sent on high level missions, such as political prisoner transport because of the dangers one would face trying to free said prisoner,” Bridges explains quickly, not pausing to breathe throughout his entire statement. “But something was noticed wasn’t it? Something a bit key,” Theola asks as she sits smoothly down into her chair. “Y-yes..it was noticed, after he had boarded his shuttle with the prisoner and disembarked from the Selene, that his ident tag was that of a deceased Trooper. By the time the alarms were raised, he had jumped into hyperspace,” the captain says quietly.

The Fleet Admiral briefly steeples her fingers, fighting back the irritation that was rising within her. This would be a blemish on her record. A small one, but a blemish nonetheless and she hated blemishes. “What do we know about the deceased Death Trooper? Were we able to find out anything with his ident tag?” she asks, keeping a lid on her frustrations for now. “Indeed we were able to,” Captain Sha Rederia says rather quickly. Theola smiles slightly and nods to her old friend to continue. The Chiss captain taps a few keys on the console in front of her and the hologram shifts from an image of the Death Trooper to a large floating dossier on the former wearer of the armor. Admiral Duvessa leans slightly forward in her seat to get a better look at the words floating in midair.

“Death Trooper DT-D04 was part of a squad that had been tasked with protecting Moff Geon. Three months ago, Moff Geon was assassinated and all of his entourage were listed as KIA,” Captain Rederia reports. Theola frowns at this, raising an eyebrow slightly. “So are you saying that it is possible that the Trooper wasn’t killed in the assassination plot?” she asks. “No ma’am. A few of the bodies that were recovered from the scene showed the telltale signs of lightsaber wounds. Either that or a high energy weapon of some sort,” Sha replies, matter-of-factly. This piece of news causes Theola to sit up straighter and lower her hands to the table’s top.

“Lightsaber wounds? Are you saying that one of those Force wielding warriors was aboard one of our ships and we knew nothing about it?” she asks suddenly. “That is my guess, ma’am. If that is true, then we are very lucky that they were only after the prisoner and didn’t seek to wreak damage across the _Selene_ ,” Captain Rederia adds. The admiral nods and then shifts her gaze back to Captain Bridges. “Do a full sweep of your ship. Check her from bow to stern. Make fully sure that the intruder didn’t leave any nasty surprises behind after he collected his prize. I can’t have your ship going down at a crucial moment because we were not thorough,” Theola orders the junior officer. Ashton stands up and salutes. “Then by your leave, admiral. I would like to go ahead and get started on that,” he asks as he stands at rigid attention.

“You are dismissed,” Theola says, returning the salute. As the Star Destroyer captain departs, she interlaces her fingers, placing them on the table top again. “Now then, onto the next business. Flight leaders, tell me, how are things amongst our pilots?” she asks, gazing over at her squadron leaders. “Same as always, ma’am,” Bettimal states with a slight shrug of her shoulders. The admiral watches as her sister leans back a bit into her seat, relaxing a little now that some of the tension had bled out of the room with Bridges’ exit. Leader of the Sando Squadron and Commander of the Leviathan Fighter Wing, Bettimal Duvessa had her hair tied back into a multicolored bun that rests above the nape of her neck. She had chosen a simple make up style this time. Eyeliner to accentuate her steel blue eyes and dark red lipstick. “Oh? You seem to have a bit more to say on that. Please, elaborate,” Theola says as she rests her chin on the backs of her hands.

Bettimal rolls her eyes slightly before leaning forward a bit. “Frankly, the pilots are bored out of their minds, Admiral. It hasn’t caused any disciplinary infractions yet, but it is only a matter of time,” she states, tapping her index finger down on the solid black glossy table firmly. Someone scoffs and the fleet admiral’s gaze turns to lock onto the fiery haired leader of the Razor Shark Squadron, Thinia Tohsoka. “Something to add, Commander Tohsoka?” Admiral Duvessa prompts. “Not really, ma’am,” Thinia replies with a grin, easily meeting the superior officer’s gaze, “Just that Commander Duvessa is merely a bit sore that her guys got trounced by mine. That is why she is a bit more irate than normal.” “A fluke! It was nothing but a fluke!” Bettimal immediately shoots back. “Right right, and Hutts are the most generous and loving creatures in the galaxy,” Thinia retorts dismissively. A collective chuckle reverberates from around the table.

Theola sighs softly and raises her head up so she can hold up her hands. “Now now, ladies, calm yourselves. We are all allies here. Nothing wrong with a bit of friendly competition between squadrons. Well done Commander Tohsoka. But now, you have motivated the Sandos to get the pep back in their step. You’ll have to watch out for them during the next inter-squadron competition,” the admiral says with a grin. Tohsoka grins a bit wider and bows her head slightly in deference. “But of course, Admiral. The Razor Sharks will be ready for anything that the Sandos can throw at us,” she says confidently. “The gauntlet has been thrown, Commander Duvessa. Will you rise to the challenge?” Theola asks as she sweeps her gaze over to her sibling. “Of course, the Sandos will prove their worth. We just had a slight misstep is all,” Bettimal replies with a voracious grin.

With that situation diffused, Theola turns to the remaining flight leaders. When no one said anything, the admiral’s gaze moves over to the other side of the table. Sitting quietly were the leaders of her ground forces. They sit with their usual level of relaxed tension, as if they were ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice. At their head was the Supreme Commander of the Leviathan Legion, General Ginnifer Blackwell. She meets Theola’s gaze with a slight nod of respect, her olive green eyes staring thoughtfully back from behind the black rimmed glasses she wears. “Nothing much to report on our end. We had a few inter-battalion competitions that gave us benchmarks for where training is lacking. With those deficiencies identified, we have already formulated and enacted a plan to make sure that the Legion is the premier fighting force within the Imperial Remnant,” she reports in a soft but strong voice.

Theola nods slightly and sweeps her gaze down the rest of the commanders. As she does, Colonel Kam Vastor catches her gaze with his own intense greens. “Colonel Vastor, you seem to have something that you wish to share. You have permission,” Admiral Duvessa says as she leans back to watch him. The Commander of the Akk Wolf Battalion slowly rises up from his chair to an impressive height. The Imperial uniform he wears seems hard pressed to contain his well-muscled physique. “I would like to make it known that the Akk Wolves will be holding a martial arts tournament upon the _Leviathan_ in three cycles. I wanted to extend an offer to the other ships for any who would like to compete,” he states in a powerfully deep voice. The admiral catches a few of her officers perk up at this news, but none say anything verbally. “Alright, I am sure the message has been received. Thank you,” Theola says as she motions for Vastor to sit, which he promptly does.

As she sits there, the admiral feels that something was amiss. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but she could feel it in the air. She moves her gaze across those gathered here once more. Out of all her staff, only one looked a bit down. “Commander Kriss Robinson, report,” the admiral says firmly. The young Chiss woman sits up a bit straighter before standing into the rigid position of attention, turning her glowing crimson gaze onto the fleet admiral. “Ma’am, we were lent out to assist Admiral Henders in his campaign against pirate forces. While the battle was won, our forces suffered several casualties. Four of my pilots were able to eject from their craft and suffered mild to serious injuries. Two other pilots were not so lucky and fell in the line of duty,” she says stiffly. Her sadness is almost palpable and Theola could empathize. She had lost good soldiers in the heat of battle before. Some had been good friends. The admiral nods softly. 

“I will review it in the after action report. Thank you, and remember, they gave their lives for a valiant cause. The pirate scum paid for it in their blood and have earned the ire of the Leviathan Battle Group. No one messes with us,” Theola says, the hint of a growl on the edge of her voice, “Captain Rederia, find out what you can about the group that was in conflict with Henders. If there are any survivors or known bases, I want their coordinates. While it may be a bit much for a group of mere pirates, as Commander Duvessa said, the pilots are getting bored.” A fierce grin creeps across her lips as she feels the excitement level in the room raise substantially. Kriss grins broadly and bows slightly at the waist. “Thank you, ma’am. My pilots will be thrilled to avenge their fallen comrades,” she says, some of the sadness bleeding out of her tone and being replace with eagerness. “Good good. If there is nothing else, let the hunt begin!” Theola declares, slamming her fist on the desk for emphasis. In unison, the gathered commanders spring to their feet and take the position of attention. “Leviathan!” she bellows. “Rip them up! Crush them down! Cast them to the deep!” comes the roared response. “Dismissed! Happy hunting!”


End file.
